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I came for the dough, you came for the hoes We ain't on the same thing You got five bitches attracted to bust downs You got smart ones noticing Plain Jane She paid me for all the game that I gave her That's simple and plain Mama, I put you on like some pinkie rings I can put you on, carve you out a lane A avenue to go get paid Big lights on the center stage Got the duffel bag full of paper laid Cross the back seat like a 12 gauge Now lay it down, lay it down, whenever the G's around I set them Impalas on the ground Then I step off into the town Checking my tracks, collecting my racks And planning attacks wherever you at We'll put them hittas on your back Hittas will never get to relax Checking them tracks, collecting my racks And planning attacks wherever you at, nigga We'll be on a vacation And you'll be nervous, hyperventilating My niggas, they my niggas SongtexteStayed my brothers, never turned my back on 'em King shit, yeah, Machiavelli Shore to the shore, in all black on 'em Got a hood bitch who head so good I can't front, I had to double back on her Dope boy, a real dope boy You see every track, I spit crack on it Puff that, pass that Even though the doctor say it's bad for me Mama say I'm hard-headed Had to take a chance for that cash money Crash dummy, not me Hit the plug, guarded me a three piece Smoke gas, straight gas, only strong, Hercules, Hercules Trapstar, goin get it, on a mission Motherfuck waiting for it No fronts, pay up front, cold world Nana say she praying for me Wrist game, sick man, whip game, make that bounce I'm rich, bitch, Rick James For the pain, smoke me a ounce Checking my tracks, collecting my racks And planning attacks wherever you at We'll put them hittas on your back Hittas will never get to relax Checking them tracks, collecting my racks And planning attacks wherever you at, nigga We'll be on a vacation And you'll be nervous, hyperventilating On the creep, keep quiet Real niggas move in silence All my niggas out here wildin' We in the streets steady mobbin' Super villain, I'm a problem Lil' fuck boys don't want no problems Hating on me 'cause a nigga shining Chain got the water, wet diamonds Couldn't get a bag with 'em Now I'm touching bands on my own without 'em All my hoes done got finer Loud packs done got louder Bossed up like Scarface First you get the money, then the power Making racks every hour Real nigga, never been a coward I got the juice like Bishop Call my haters up if there's a issue Ain't shit for me to push up on you Set check you with the pistol In the kitchen with the cook up Residue on the dishes Garbage bag full of money Counting hundreds up, getting to the riches Checking my tracks, collecting my racks And planning attacks wherever you at We'll put them hittas on your back Hittas will never get to relax Checking them tracks, collecting my racks And planning attacks wherever you at, nigga We'll be on a vacation And you'll be nervous, hyperventilating Aus Songtexte Mania